


A List and a Handful of Salt

by MusingsOnBuckyBarnes



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Saves the Day, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Oxenfurt Academy, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Recovery, jaskier at oxenfurt, valdo marx cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusingsOnBuckyBarnes/pseuds/MusingsOnBuckyBarnes
Summary: Post-episode 1.06, Jaskier is lecturing at Oxenfurt Academy full time. Then creatures are loose on the campus, and Jaskier realises they can’t wait until a Witcher arrives to help.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 20
Kudos: 438





	A List and a Handful of Salt

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve redesigned the Academy to suit the purposes of this story. From the looks of images online, the Academy is surrounded by water, but in my version, it is in the town and just has the river on one side. I’ve also created a creature. 
> 
> This fic was inspired by one I read by punk-jaskier on Tumblr, where after episode 1.06 Jaskier goes to Oxenfurt to work, there are monster attacks at the Academy, then Geralt arrives to take care of the problem. It made me think, “What there wasn’t time to wait for Geralt?”  
> The link to punk-jaskier’s fic is here:  
> https://punk-jaskier.tumblr.com/post/190813809709/yall-wanna-hear-my-extremely-sad-headcanon-about

xXx

Jaskier had missed Oxenfurt Academy. He just wished that he wasn’t back here under these circumstances.

These circumstances being Geralt wanting nothing to do with him anymore. Geralt blaming him for all the ills in his world.

Jaskier wished he had given Geralt space to calm down on the mountain, instead of stepping in so soon. But it had been so difficult to watch his friend suffer and not try to help. And it had blown up in his face.

So Jaskier had headed back to the Academy, composing songs along the way to try to deal with and process his feelings and thoughts. He became a fill-in lecturer for drama studies until a position opened up. Then he worked as a history lecturer. He didn’t play the lute as much these days. He was a popular teacher. The students were never dull. It was enjoyable to talk with the other staff and fortunately Valdo Marx was off touring. Jaskier went for daily walks and rides for his exercise. Life went on. But now it was a scholarly, town life, instead.

Months passed.

In the back of his notebook, he kept a list. He had started it after the dragon hunt, trying to work out what he really wanted. Some things he went back and crossed out or altered. An ever-evolving list of what pleased him and what he wanted to do.

Some of it were places he hadn’t been to yet and wanted to, or foods he hadn’t tried. Manuscripts that hadn’t been seen for centuries that he wanted to discover and read and reintroduce to the people.

And there were other things he wanted, like:

_To go to the coast._

_To be called a friend._

_To have someone who is both a friend and a lover._

_To go to the coast with that soulmate._

_Great lovemaking. Not just sex._

_True love._

_To be known as a great bard and poet._

_To feel really wanted._

xXx

It was nice to be in a real bed again. And the same bed each night did have appeal. _I must be getting old._ Jaskier enjoyed decorating his room and having a book collection. The rooms for the teaching staff were very good here. Jaskier didn’t even have to make his bed or clean up – the Academy hired servants for that, including some children from the orphanage or whose family needed extra money or who were the offspring of the Academy’s adult servants. The children were eager to run errands, shine shoes and boots, serve at meals and so forth, and Jaskier gave them sweets or little gifts as well as a thank you. They also loved the songs or rude rhymes he made up for them, whether accompanied by his lute or not. He often heard the children singing them as they went about the place.

The Academy had a defining feature: a very high wall around it, broken up by a series of gates, some big and some small, locked of a night to give parents the reassurance that their little darlings were protected. It was a common joke that the wall was less to keep the students contained or safe and more to keep the teachers in, their prison.

One day, one of the children ran up to Jaskier in the main courtyard. It was seven-year-old Bee, who stayed with her widower mother in the city each night, and she told him with excitement, “Master Jaskier, there’s all sorts of creatures out there! Ones I’ve never seen or heard of before! They look so fierce.”

“Creatures?”

“In cages. Up against the wall outside the south-east gate.” She chatted about the beasts and other strange things she had seen. “Please tell me stories about them when you have time. You must have seen some in your adventures with the Witcher.”

Curious, Jaskier went and had a look. Even before he exited that gateway, he could smell and hear that there were indeed creatures out there.

It turned out that a merchant had gathered some rare animals and other oddities for a rich nobleman’s private zoo, and they were here waiting to be loaded on a barge and taken along the river and up the coast to their new home.

Jaskier felt uncomfortable as he joined the gawkers looking at the cages and the trapped creatures. Some he did recognise from either his own adventures or that Geralt had told him about. Others he would need to look up in the library.

xXx

Arriving at the next faculty meeting, Jaskier greeted the Chancellor. She was a no-nonsense woman in her early sixties. During the meeting, she reported: “The gatekeepers and some of the students have noticed an odd thing happening. The mice and rats are leaving.”

The law lecturer shrugged and said, “Perhaps they don’t like the new curriculum. Or the food.”

“Rodents are often around, even with the Academy cats, but all the ones that have been spotted lately are heading _outside_ our walls, not coming in.”

The law lecturer frowned. “That’s odd. Or we’re being pranked. How easy is it to train a rat?”

Another teacher shrugged and said, “Perhaps the cats are having an off-week.”

Jaskier liked the cats. They had all been given the posts of official vermin control and also as permanent students of the Academy. Often a cat would wander into a lecture or class and would be welcomed and doted on instead of removed.

As if summoned, there was a yowling at the main door. A servant went and opened it, and in marched five of the cats, one carrying her kitten, the only remaining one of the litter who hadn’t found a new home yet. They then proceeded to settle into the meeting hall, like this was their new headquarters.

Jaskier blinked and said, “Okay, something’s going on.”

xXx

Something was indeed going on, as was demonstrated the next morning.

Two of the students had tried to make a quiet, pre-dawn trip to a storage area to pinch some food and wine, but it quickly became anything but quiet, with them yelling that some strange large spider-thing had tried to attack them.

One of the guards, a man fed-up with student carryings-on, said, “They were caught in an area they weren’t supposed to be in. This could be just some drunken mishap that the boys are covering up. Or a joke.”

The Chancellor replied, “I doubt it. I believe them. Plus, at the scene there were some odd droppings and what looked like the start of some nest. No sign of any creature there now though.”

“So they’re thieves, but not liars? And good at arts and crafts.”

Jaskier sided with the Chancellor. Those two boys were not capable of such good acting. He knew that – he’d tried to teach them drama. Their alarm and terror were genuine. Jaskier said, “The creature that they described – I think I saw one, possibly two, at that zoo shipment. Part of the cage was covered, so I can’t be sure if there were two in there or not. It looked like a Wavon.” They were arachnids that came up to about knee or thigh-height, with many eyes, sharp teeth and lots of claw-like serrations on their many legs.

“You’ve seen them before in your travels?” the Chancellor asked.

“No, but Geralt mentioned them. I need to have a look in the library.”

“All right. For now, I’ve cancelled classes and the students are staying in their halls. I’m holding a staff meeting in an hour about this. Report back then. Take an escort with you if you want.”

Jaskier went into the library by himself (but with caution) and looked up all he could find there in the time he had. He wrote down all that he could remember Geralt telling him about Wavons. Fortunately, it wasn’t hard to locate what information the library had. When Jaskier had become a famous travelling bard and made Witchers noble and famous, the librarians had made it their personal mission to have a thorough, well-sorted section about monsters, in honour of their famous ex-student and his Witcher. (They probably also hoped that Geralt would come by one day.)

Jaskier announced to the gathering, “I think we have at least one, possibly two Wavons. The description and behaviour seem to match. They must have escaped from that zoo shipment. It’s best to assume there are two, and that possible nest supports that. A nesting pair.”

The Chancellor nodded. “What do you recommend we do?”

“Close and evacuate the Academy. Advertise for a Witcher or see if a local mage can help. Hopefully the Wavons can’t climb the walls and get out into the populace – it doesn’t seem like they can with those legs but I’m not sure. And they should be sleeping now, if these notes are correct. Wavons seem to like to hunt around the middle of the day. I think it or they attacked those students because they accidentally disturbed them. If we leave out some meat, to try to keep them in the Academy and fed and not looking for people to kill, I think that would be the best option.”

“So you want to trap it or them?”

“Contain, yes. With the attack or encounter happening so early this morning, at least all the gates were shut, or should have been. And you’ve kept them shut. So the creature or creatures should still be here. Sleeping, at the moment. That will change around midday, so we better get everyone out by then. It would be great to lock the Wavons up in one building, but that’s too dangerous since we don’t know where they are. Or even if they stick together. At least we can try keeping them within the Academy walls. It’s best if a Witcher or mage deals with it. But either way, we need to evacuate and send for professional help.”

“Very well.” The Chancellor then said, “I’d also like to know just how two such creatures got into the Academy in the first place. If they couldn’t climb the walls, then somehow they got through one of the entrances there without anyone noticing… A drunk guard? Or someone deliberately brought them in. They’re hardly pets that can be kept in a room, which leads to the possibility that it was someone with a grudge.”

She then set about issuing orders about the evacuation and gates, and asked to see the cook about procuring meat to lay out.

It was nice to be taken seriously. In the safety of the hall, Jaskier resumed looking through the library books he’d brought with him.

The skin and numerous eyes of a Wavon were sensitive to salt. A baker had once been able to escape one by throwing flour and salt into its face, and it was the salt that gave the bigger reaction.

So Jaskier dug out a waist pouch and threaded it through a belt. He filled the pouch with salt. It felt a bit weird but also safer when he had to walk around at the Academy. Plus he had his dagger from his days on the road. He’d borrowed the sword of old Barnard, one of the servants who had once been a soldier and who still kept his weapons sharp. When a Witcher turned up, he could use the pouch if he wanted.

And what were the odds that it would be Geralt who showed up?

But Jaskier didn’t care which Witcher it was. If it was Geralt, so be it. If it was another Witcher, it would be interesting to meet him and see what he was like. Just as long as one came along soon and dealt with this threat before someone died.

xXx

The evacuation was nearly complete – too close to the middle of the day for Jaskier’s liking, but it had been hard to get some students to take the threat seriously (“All this for one or two overgrown spiders?” or “Oooo, can we hunt them down? How exciting!”) or to find some of the students. Jaskier would stay in the meeting room, to wait for whatever Witcher or mage showed up first, and to monitor the situation. (The cats had also been evacuated. The faculty hadn’t wanted to be continually dealing with their litter box visits in the meeting hall while the crisis was happening.)

Then Jaskier heard a commotion in the hallway outside. It wasn’t an attack. It was an argument. He opened the door.

Valdo Marx was standing there, facing off with the Chancellor, who looked furious.

_The last person we need…_

“What’s happening?” Jaskier asked.

Valdo nodded at his boss and said, “She’s is in a huff because I sent that Bee child off to get me some wine.”

Jaskier gaped at him. “You did what? You’ve put her in danger!”

“Oh, come on… I didn’t send her down into the dark, scary basement. Just into one of the main storages. I just got back from a triumphant tour and am parched.”

“There’s dangerous creatures on the loose!”

Valdo rolled his eyes. “You’re just saying that to get attention, since your Witcher dumped you and you’re stuck here. One of your overblown tales.”

Jaskier wanted to yell every obscenity under the sun while punching him, but he couldn’t do that. There wasn’t time. He had to find Bee and make sure she was all right.

She may not have known why the Academy was being emptied out, missed in the exodus. And she might not have felt that she could disobey Valdo’s order, that of a big, bullying adult.

Jaskier was already wearing the pouch of salt and the dagger. He darted back into the meeting room for the sword. Valdo looked at it with disbelief when Jaskier re-emerged, but told him which specific storeroom. It was a large one, with many windows, so he wouldn’t need to burden himself with a lantern or torch.

Quickly, Jaskier ran across the courtyard. Reaching the storeroom, he tucked the flap of the pouch back behind the belt, against his body, so that he could reach straight in for the salt when needed. He was alone – the other lecturers were busy with the tail-end of the evacuation, though the Chancellor said she would try to send someone after him soon. And he certainly didn’t want Valdo guarding his back. Though he wouldn’t have minded the Chancellor armed with a frying pan or sword. And he half-expected exactly that to happen, if she couldn’t locate someone else for him quickly.

This wasn’t some epic poem quest. Surely, he would find Bee safe and well.

But sometimes life didn’t happen that way.

In the storeroom, Bee was there, and so was one of the creatures.

Bee had scrambled on top of some wooden crates, trying to get away from it. She looked unhurt but terrified. And yes, it did look like the Wavon couldn’t climb that surface at least, as much as it wanted to. Its mottled green body was darting back and forth in front of the stack of boxes, seemingly frustrated. But the boxes could easily fall…

Jaskier ran towards the Wavon. He had a handful of salt ready in one fist and the sword in the other. He yelled at the creature.

That got its attention. All the glowy eyes were fixed on Jaskier. It came towards him at quite a speed. Jaskier threw the salt. His aim was good. The countless little crystals struck the Wavon across its face, in some of its many eyes.

It shrieked and reared. Jaskier leapt out of its way, or tried to. Half-blinded and crazed with pain and rage, the creature was flailing around.

If only he’d had time to locate some sort of a net… Jaskier threw more salt at it.

If it was only him and the Wavon in here, he’d get the hell away from it now and lock it in.

However, there was the very good chance that it would bolt off and stumble across Bee again. Or the second one would be lurking.

The Wavon careered into some boxes and knocked some of them down on top of itself. Fortunately, not the ones Bee was on. As it tried to struggle free, it was facing away from Jaskier, and he was presented with the opportunity to strike. 

It didn’t have a neck as such, so he couldn’t go for that.

What would Geralt do?

Jaskier focused on the top of the creature’s head. He changed his grip on the sword, so that instead of slicing or hacking, he would drive the blade in.

Quickly, he moved forwards and rammed the sword down as hard as he could.

The blade went in, fortunately with only some resistance. Had he penetrated the skull? Jaskier went to twist it out so he could move back and try again if needed, but the Wavon let out another horrible noise – hopefully a death scream – and bucked. Jaskier was sent tumbling back, the sword wrenched from his grasp. It was still sticking out of the Wavon, lodged in its brain or enough to mortally wound it if he was lucky.

But Jaskier knew very well that some creatures still kept lashing out even when they were dying. It could take the body time to get the message from the brain.

He scrambled back, trying to pull out more salt and his dagger and get to his feet. His right-hand wrist was aching from when he was twisted away from the sword.

The Wavon’s thrashing freed itself from the boxes. It staggered towards Jaskier, its forelimbs flailing.

Regaining his feet, Jaskier backpedalled, at the same time trying to throw the salt and bring his dagger up to defend himself and shield his face.

There was a blazing pain in his right arm, at his elbow. Plus the sound of breaking bone.

He rather wished it had been his leg instead. Though at least his arm wasn’t sliced through or hanging half-off.

Blood, shocking red.

Jaskier fell backwards and dropped the dagger. He automatically brought his left hand to staunch the wound, and the salt still coating his hand delivered burning pain instead, and the broken bone or bones protested too. Lying on the floor, he pushed with his feet, trying to propel himself away from the Wavon.

_Die already!_

He could hear Bee yelling – he thought she was trying to distract it. Hopefully she wasn’t yelling about Creature Number II entering the fray. Then something hit the Wavon’s body, making it stumble. Jaskier wasn’t sure exactly what it was, possibly a shoe, but it seemed to have been something Bee had thrown.

_Good shot._

“Bee, stay back! Stay up on the boxes!” He didn’t want the brave girl coming down and getting hurt.

The Wavon stumbled to a halt. It stopped making noises and slumped a bit, swaying, then crumpled to the floor. The sword stuck up like a lance.

He’d done it. Or perhaps it was stunned or unconscious.

He didn’t have a chance to check. The pain, shock and blood loss caught up with Jaskier, and he passed out.

xXx

Jaskier woke up alive and half-regretting that fact. He was in a bed. His arm was still attached, lying across his front in a sling, but it was letting him know how much it was hurting. He could see it was heavily bandaged at his elbow and also braced at his wrist. The pain was enough to propel him out of unconsciousness and at the same time threaten to drag him straight back down there.

People were peering down at him. Fellow teachers.

“You slayed it!” someone said. “No one messes with an Oxenfurt bard!”

He tried to tell them, “There’s probably another one! Is Bee all right?” But then he was gone again before he got an answer.

xXx

Jaskier surfaced. He was in the Academy’s main infirmary. He stared at the bed. That was about all he could do. A separate blanket, bright green, had been folded and placed over his torso, covering his arms and keeping his chest warm, but allowing for easy access to check his wound.

His arm. What if infection set in and he lost his arm? It wasn’t like he was playing the lute as much as he used to, but still…

He could hear a familiar voice. That was probably what had woken him. Not far away he could see Geralt standing there, in his armour, talking to someone. Of course, it was Geralt.

_Called it._

Geralt was handing a piece of paper to the Academy’s healer, who stared at it in astonishment.

The healer said, “This is a very expensive list. And some of these ingredients are very rare -”

“I know.” Geralt then handed him not one but two bulging purses. The jiggle of many coins carried across the room.

The healer looked even more astonished.

Geralt said, “Get it done. Now. Same with the mage.”

“It might take some time to –”

“ _Get it done._ As fast as you can.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. “Before infection has time to set in. Jaskier is not going to lose that arm.”

The healer swallowed and nodded, then noticed that Jaskier was awake and the medical man seemed relieved that the Witcher’s attention would now be diverted. He hastily exited.

Geralt immediately came over and sat next to the bed. “Jaskier.”

“There may be another one, another Wavon. Probably nesting.”

“I know; I’m about to go and hunt it.”

“Bee? The girl…”

“She’s all right. She’s safe.”

“If you’re lying, I’ll kill you myself,” Jaskier vowed, glaring at him, or mustering the best glare he could.

“I’m not lying. I promise she’s alive and safe, thanks to you.”

Jaskier closed his eyes in relief then quickly opened them. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Geralt reached down and touched his forehead, then gently moved his hand into Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier assumed that Geralt was checking his temperature and also reassuring him, but it was also the most tender touch he felt he’d ever had. The Witcher said, “And I’m sorry for what I said and did to you. I didn’t mean it. We’ll talk about it more when I’m back.”

Geralt slid his hand under the blanket and clasped his left hand. Jaskier squeezed back. Then Geralt carefully slid his hand away and left.

xXx

When Jaskier woke up again, Geralt was in a chair beside his bed, looking like he had been there forever. He was in his shirtsleeves and Jaskier couldn’t see any signs of major injuries on him, just some minor bruises and a small cut. The Witcher looked relieved.

Geralt raised Jaskier’s head carefully to give him some medication and water.

When he had settled Jaskier back down again and carefully tucked the blanket back under his chin, Geralt asked, “How do you feel?”

“Gnawed on… Did you kill it?”

“Yes, it’s dead.”

“Larger or smaller than mine?”

Geralt looked a little amused at the question. “About the same size.”

“Hmmm.” He’d slayed a monster. He felt relieved but also sick. He didn’t feel heroic.

Geralt said, “I’ve had a look at the wound – you got hit by one of its serrated legs, not its teeth. But yes, either way is painful,” he said in answer to Jaskier’s unimpressed look. “The healer is mixing up some medicines for you now. One is an ointment to spread on your elbow. It will prevent any infection and repair the flesh and muscle quickly. And some potions. We’ll get a mage in to fix the broken bone. Then you will be able to play your lute again soon, instead of having to wait for weeks for it to heal.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

Geralt blinked at him, stunned. “What?”

“For the medicine. ‘An expensive list.’ I heard him.” Plus, Jaskier knew that an ointment with fast healing abilities was not easy to come by. “And mages aren’t cheap.”

“You’ve already paid more than enough. Too much. I’m sorry I didn’t get here more quickly. But you did very well. The pouch of salt was a great idea. And your notes and plan were very good.”

He carefully shrugged his left shoulder. “Jaskier, Bard and Monster Slayer.”

That got a small smile. “Get some sleep.”

“That’s all I’m doing…” Jaskier replied with exasperation.

“You’re growing new blood. That’s taking a lot of effort. The time will come soon enough when you can turn this into a new song.”

xXx

The mage stepped in to fix the broken bone or bones – someone who Jaskier didn’t know but even in the fog of pain and drugs, Jaskier could see that Geralt was watching the mage like a hawk. When the mage did his thing, Jaskier couldn’t help screaming and then vomiting up what food Geralt had managed to get into him a few hours beforehand.

When the ointment was applied, it felt like Jaskier’s elbow had been thrust into fire, despite the medicine the healer gave him to try to dull the pain. Rapid healing _hurt_.

Geralt was holding his hand through both procedures and the Witcher didn’t flinch at the pressure Jaskier applied.

Then it was over, and Jaskier was light-headed. Geralt got up and stepped away reluctantly for a servant to carefully remove the blankets that had been thrown up on. Then Geralt got some hot water and soap and cleaned Jaskier instead of letting the servant do it. Fresh blankets were then spread over Jaskier.

The arm was healed of its bad injuries but it would still be tender for the next few days. The mage couldn’t do anything about the loss of blood though, so Jaskier would be on bed rest while his body dealt with that.

Geralt fed him soup and they were both relieved when he kept it down.

Then they could hear meowing from the hallway.

Geralt investigated and said, “There’s a cat hanging around the door. It seems to want to come in.”

“Let it.”

A grey cat promptly walked into the room like she owned it. She did a lap of honour, sniffing everything. Great attention and curiosity were devoted to anything to do with Geralt. Then she jumped up onto the bed and came up on Jaskier’s good side for a pat. After receiving enough worship, she turned around and settled down near his waist, after doing some vigorous kneading of the blankets. Her purring filled the air.

“She didn’t hiss at me,” Geralt marvelled. Though Jaskier could tell that as soon as the cat jumped on the bed, the Witcher had been poised to whisk her off if the cat got too close to Jaskier’s injuries or bothered him in any way.

Speaking of which: “When you heard about what was happening here, how long had it been since I was attacked?” Jaskier had lost track of the time after being hurt. He was wondering how quickly the news and notices had spread.

“I was already in Oxenfurt. I knew you were there and I wanted to see you. When people saw me, they asked if I’d arrived about the monster sightings at the Academy. I was about to head straight over, then someone came running into the market square and announced what had happened to you.”

Jaskier was glad that Geralt had already been looking for him. Geralt then apologised again, both in case Jaskier couldn’t remember the first time and also because he really was very sorry. Jaskier could tell. Like those students, Geralt was not good at manufactured drama.

The Witcher asked hesitantly, “Can you give me another chance? To be a better travelling companion for you? If, of course, you want to travel again, leave the Academy.”

“Academy life has proved to be more dangerous for me than being on the road!” There was a pause. “I’m too tired to have this conversation now, but there’s something you can do in the meantime. My notebook is over on that table. In the back few pages I’ve been writing a list of what pleases me, what I want. I give you permission to look at it. If you can agree to that, then that’s a good start. Or rather a new start for us.”

Jaskier drifted off. He half-woke and wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but Geralt was there in the chair beside the bed, holding the notebook open, reading the contents of the final pages. Geralt was so absorbed that he didn’t even notice Jaskier watching him or his change in heart rate, but very quickly Jaskier was asleep again. This growing new blood thing was a tedious bitch.

The next time Jaskier woke, Geralt was sitting there, eyes shut, meditating. The cat had gone elsewhere. The notebook was open on the bed next to Jaskier’s left hand. There was something new written underneath a section of Jaskier’s list. Something in Geralt’s handwriting. The bard managed to lift the book up on enough of an angle to read the message:

_I accept all of your terms and conditions and will do everything in my power to make you happy._

_Your obedient servant and friend,_

_Geralt of Rivia_

Friend. That had been the first time Geralt had ever used the word, without denying it. And it was in writing.

And something more than friend as well. Because Geralt had said he accepted ALL of Jaskier’s list, and that had included wanting someone who was his friend and his lover. 

Just to be sure, Jaskier asked Geralt. He hoped it would not be an awkward conversation. But he had to know for sure.

“Yes. Those things on your list – they are mine too.” The Witcher actually managed to look both bashful and brave while admitting that. “Apart from wanting to be a great poet though.”

“Well, that’s great then.” Jaskier couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. It made Geralt smile too.

xXx

Jaskier assumed that Valdo had made himself scarce from campus for now. The Chancellor came by several times. She had launched an investigation into how the Wavons had got in, and Jaskier thought that the Gods wouldn’t be able to help anyone who had deliberately brought them in by the time the Chancellor dealt with them. At least that wasn’t Jaskier’s problem.

Bee was another visitor. She gave Jaskier a careful half-hug to his left side, and kissed his cheek. He introduced her to Geralt.

Bee stared at him in awe. “You’re the one Jaskier sang those songs about.”

Geralt nodded. “Yes. Now he can sing a song about his own heroics. And yours. I hear you have a good aim.”

They talked to Bee for a while. Jaskier wanted to mention, but didn’t, that Geralt wouldn’t be as awkward around Ciri as he seemed to imagine he’d be, based on his interactions with Bee. He also noticed that Geralt was making sure that Bee wasn’t traumatised about what had happened, encouraging her to speak about the incident and her feelings if she wanted.

xXx

A wooden tub was brought in and filled with water. Geralt heated the water, then with great care and gentleness helped Jaskier get into it, since standing was still making him feel a bit dizzy. Then Geralt helped him bathe.

“What are you thinking about?” the Witcher asked at one point.

Jaskier smiled. “The way you touch me. Even you touching my forehead or running your hand through my hair feels so incredible. So that’s got me wondering what a kiss or more would be like.”

Geralt put down the sponge. “Let us not wonder anymore.”

It was the sort of kiss that a bard would write a song about. And he definitely would!

Jaskier was already in a nice, hot bath, but the kiss made him feel even hotter, molten. He grinned and pulled the very-willing Geralt towards him for another kiss.

Geralt was sleeping on one of the other beds in the infirmary. Fortunately, there were no other people ill or injured, so often Jaskier and Geralt had the place to themselves, with the healer busy in his office or giving safe sex lectures to the students. Jaskier and Geralt quite wanted to get into some sex themselves, but restrained themselves, waiting for the chance to be alone in an inn. They did get to do more kissing here and there.

xXx

Jaskier was sitting in bed, reading. He heard a commotion out in the courtyard. The healer hurried to peer out the window, then opened it to get a better look.

“What’s going on?” Jaskier asked.

“Your Witcher spotted Valdo Marx. He’s now got him pinned by his throat up against the library building.”

Jaskier could hear Geralt bellowing out his rage. Jaskier asked, “Are Valdo’s feet off the ground?”

“No. Pity. I think Valdo has pissed his pants though.”

xXx

Geralt’s efforts had prevented any infection starting in Jaskier’s arm, to both their great reliefs.

The Witcher asked, “Did you want your lute brought in here for you? Or did you want to wait to play it until you’ve been discharged?”

“When I’m discharged. I’ve got my notebook and can scribble in it. That’s enough for now.”

“Are you composing a ballad about what happened?”

“No. I don’t think I’m ready to yet. Though perhaps one about Bee the Brave would be good.”

xXx

Even though they knew what they felt for each other and Geralt had ensured that Jaskier’s arm was now back to normal, that didn’t magically ensure that everything else was healed. So, they talked, revealing things to each other.

For example, Geralt said, “All of my life, I’ve been told that Witchers don’t have emotions. Then you showed up and kept showing up, and I was feeling one thousand emotions at once, at full strength. It’s taken a while to adapt to that.”

And Jaskier told him, “When I first asked you for a review of my songs, you were reluctant. So, I asked for three words or less. Then when you said, ‘They don’t exist’, I thought you meant that my songs were so indescribable or bad that you couldn’t even come up with three words about them!”

“You mentioned the coast… Was that a particular piece of coastline?” Geralt asked.

“There are some that are said to be lovely, but that I’ve never gotten to visit. It would be nice to go to one of those. And visit your Child Surprise as well.”

They made travel plans. Jaskier started to play his lute again, and treasured the relief and smile on Geralt’s face when he did so.

The Chancellor accepted Jaskier’s resignation without surprise.

xXx

Jaskier had heard from some of the students that they had overheard that the corpses of the Wavons were in one of the cold storage rooms. A mage had purchased the remains for use as spell ingredients and talismans and was going to collect them tomorrow.

So, Jaskier ‘snuck out’ to see his vanquished foe. Even someone as articulate as himself wouldn’t have been able to explain why. Just that it wasn’t a matter of conqueror and conquered. He was feeling stronger and had been walking around in the infirmary building (with Geralt hovering “In case you trip over a cat”) and he would be able to go back to his room tomorrow or the next day. To be on the safe side, he borrowed a walking stick from the infirmary to ensure he didn’t end up falling flat on his face. And he did tell the healer’s assistant where he was going.

After a rest on a bench outside, enjoying the air and sunshine, he entered the storage room, which had blocks of ice from winter, covered with sawdust to make them last as long as possible. Geralt was correct – the two Wavons were much of a size. The sword had been removed from Jaskier’s creature. The bard was going to go up and see just how the Witcher had killed the second Wavon, but he realised he didn’t want to get that close. Not just because of the smell. He could always ask Geralt if he decided he needed to know. Jaskier sat down on a crate.

He felt sorry for the crumpled forms in front of him. They had been captured for a rich man’s zoo, and hauled around in a cage, then ending like this. The zoo probably wouldn’t have treated them well either.

Geralt appeared at the doorway. Jaskier was not surprised. As soon as Geralt had heard where Jaskier was, he most likely ran across the courtyard to check on him. The look on Geralt’s face was partly _Stop scaring me like that_ and part understanding.

They stayed like that for a minute, then Geralt said, “Thanks to you, no one else was hurt. Don’t second guess your actions.”

“I know. Poor things.”

“Are you ready to go back inside now?”

“Yes. Though I’d like to get some more fresh air this afternoon.”

“All right. How about we go to the stable then? I can check on Roach, and you can tell her where we’re all going next.”

Back on the road. But things would be different. He and Geralt were different. Better.

Before heading back out onto their travels, they took advantage of a comfortable bed in an excellent local inn, and the next morning Jaskier took out his notebook list and put a big, satisfied tick next to _Great lovemaking. Not just sex._ Then he tossed the notebook in the direction of a chair and set about getting even more of that lovemaking.

xXx

The End.


End file.
